


i'm just a painter and i'm drawing a blank

by everybodylies



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU after Season 4, Arthur Finds Out, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybodylies/pseuds/everybodylies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> They say strange things happen in Camelot. Men who trip on nothing. Swords with handles that heat up and burn the hand that holds them. Tree branches that break and fall out of nowhere.</em>
</p><p>In which Arthur's the only one who doesn't know Merlin's secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm just a painter and i'm drawing a blank

**Author's Note:**

> Set between Seasons 4 and 5, and goes AU.

Imagine a dark room, lit only by the dull glow of many candles. Inside, around a table, sit men hungry for land and power, perhaps willing to ally with each other to achieve it.

How about Camelot? one suggests.

Never try to invade Camelot, the rest whisper urgently, almost as one being. You will fail.

But why not? one asks. Its army is small, its generals are mediocre. And they refuse to use magic.

Strange things happen there, one mutters. Men who trip on nothing. Swords with handles that heat up and burn the hands that hold them. Tree branches that break and fall out of nowhere.

It is bizarre, one agrees. What could be causing it? Luck?

 _That_ much luck? they murmur, unbelieving. No.

Magic, then. But would a sorcerer really aid a king who despises magic so much? And would a king who despises magic so much allow a sorcerer to aid him? 

Perhaps… it is all part of a plan, one speculates. Perhaps the king outlaws magic, so that when he uses magic against his enemies, it will catch them off guard.

If that were true, it would be very clever, one says. If that were true, King Arthur would be quite the mastermind…

\--

Parry. Strike. Dodge.

Oh, hell, another bandit?

Strike first bandit. Dodge second. Feint to the left.

 _Another_ bandit?

Arthur stumbles as he backs abruptly into a tree. Why's he fighting three bandits at the same time? What the hell are his knights doing? What about Merlin? Is Merlin even helping at all?

He holds his sword on the third bandit's for a moment too long, and his left flank is vulnerable. Time seems to slow down. He sees the first bandit begin to take a swing at him, but everything's too slow, and he knows he won't block the sword in time. If he's lucky, his chainmail will stop the blow from drawing blood, but he's probably looking at a few broken ribs, at least. He won't be able to finish the quest to kill the gryphon with the rest of the knights--

The bandit loses his grip, and the sword goes flying away into the forest.

Arthur takes it in stride; he'd learned a long time ago not to ask questions. He brings up his sword to stop the other bandit's swing. Fighting two bandits instead of three is infinitely easier, and less then a minute later, they're both down on the ground. 

Arthur takes a moment to help Gwaine and Merlin finish off one last bandit, and then it's all over. Percival's going to have a nasty bruise the next morning, but all in all, the knights are okay. Merlin, too, had somehow escaped injury, as usual. The boy was an idiot, and his sword fighting skills were basically nonexistent, but he always helped out in battles, and he always survived. Like Arthur had said the first time he'd met Merlin: there was something about him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur notices a downed bandit covered by a large fallen tree branch. Luck, he supposes. What else could it be? He tries not to think about it, tries not to think about the multitude of other times an attacking bandit had been downed by a falling branch, tries not to think about the unnatural way the sword had flown out of the hand of the bandit who'd been attacking him.

Don't think about it. Don't ask questions. Don't think about it, and don't think about _why_ you can't think about it. It's not hard; he's been doing it for years.

"I saw you took on three bandits by yourself, my lord," Sir Leon says conversationally. "Very skillful of you."

For no reason at all, Arthur looks at Merlin who only smiles back.

"Er, yes," Arthur replies, feeling awkward for taking credit, but also not wanting to correct Leon. "Thank you."

Damn, he's thinking about it again. They need to get moving again, get his mind off things he doesn't want to think about. He motions for the knights to stand up.

"Right, that's enough of a rest. Let's get going."

\--

Gwen and Merlin meet the returning knights in front of the castle. Arthur knows he looks a mess, and he tries not to look too defeated as Gwen and Merlin run toward him, concerned.

"What _happened_?" Gwen asks, cradling his bruised face lightly. "Did you bring the gold to Queen Annis?"

"No, we got attacked by bandits on the way there. They took all of it."

"How many?" Merlin asks incredulously.

Arthur considers lying, because he knows he's going to get crap from Merlin, but he's too tired to follow through on it. "Nine."

"Nine? _Nine_?" Merlin repeats, half a smile on his face. "I've seen a lot less of you take on a lot more of them."

"Well, you wouldn't understand, Merlin. You weren't there--"

Arthur pauses. Well, that was the thing, wasn't it? Merlin wasn't there. Arthur hadn't expected the journey to be very troublesome, and Gaius had needed help with an outbreak of the sweating sickness, so Merlin had stayed behind. This also turned out to be the one mission that wasn't successful. It doesn't make sense; what does Merlin even do? Perhaps it's a morale thing? The knights are good company, but somehow, Arthur had found himself longing for the familiar insubordinate comments from his manservant.

Regardless, in the end, the facts were: Merlin hadn't come, and they'd lost the gold.

Arthur looks at Merlin, and the expression on his face must be strange, because Merlin raises an eyebrow. He steps forward and puts an arm around Merlin, then faces the rest of the knights.

"That's it," he announces. "Merlin will now be accompanying us on every expedition, seeing as he's our good luck charm. And he's going to be cooking our dinner and carrying all our luggage like always."

There's a bit of faint laughter. Arthur sees the way the knights, Merlin and Gwen all look at each other nervously. They're probably worried about how much stock Arthur is putting into superstition, but Arthur is King, and he's going to be superstitious about whatever the hell he wants.

"Good luck," Merlin scoffs. "I'm just an essential part of your team. Just look at the way you all fell apart without me."

Arthur pushes Merlin's head away affectionately as they walk up the stairs back to the castle.

"Think what you like, Merlin."

\--

Bored, Gwaine taps one of the prison cell's bars incessantly. "D'you think they're going to ransom us?" he asks.

"Well, they don't know Arthur's the King of Camelot," Elyan offers.

"But they know we're knights, and knights can get fairly good ransoms anyway," Merlin says.

"I can't see why else they're keeping us alive--"

"Will you lot shut up about that?" Arthur bursts out. He's sitting on the ground in the front of the cell, face pressed to the bars. "Let's focus on escaping _before_ they try to ransom us or kill us. And Gwaine, would you _please_ stop that tapping!?"

"Sorry."

"Look," Arthur sighs, "the guards here are rubbish, so they've left us unguarded, and the keys are on the table over there."

"That table is at least four meters away," Merlin says. "What are you going to do?"

"Everyone stand up. Is there anything at all in this cell that--"

They all stop and look when they hear a rumbling come from the ceiling. What comes next, Arthur sees with his own eyes, but he barely believes it.

(Arthur remembers the ceiling as being smooth and uncracked, but) a few large chunks of rocks fall from the ceiling onto one end of the table, lifting the other end, and then catapulting the keys forward, through the cell bars, and landing directly in Arthur's lap.

Eyes wide, he picks up the keys slowly. They certainly _feel_ real. So that ceiling-table business… that actually happened. He doesn't look, but he imagines the rest of the knights' faces have expressions much like the one he's wearing.

Shouting from the floor above startles him back into attention. He quickly unlocks the cell door, and rushes to find where their captors had stored their effects while Merlin and the rest of the knights follow. After retrieving their swords and chainmail, they make their way through numerous corridors until they find a way out of the small castle though a back door.

Once they're fifty meters away, they stop and turn. Several men come running out of the door they'd just exited.

"We'd better stop and fight," Arthur decides. While they ready themselves for a battle, around the sides of the castle come pouring dozens of more men, swords at the ready. He hears a lot of curses from behind him.

"Never mind!" Arthur sheathes his sword. "Run, men!"

They flee through the forest, and eventually, they come to a large, coursing river. As they cross the bridge, Arthur hears barking and hoofbeats. He stops his men at the other side of the river, unsheathes his sword.

"We'll never outrun them. We have to make a stand. Let's try not to make it our last one, eh?"

His men fall into formation around him. He considers trying to sabotage the bridge, but the ropes have been replaced recently, too thick. He also considers telling Merlin to run for it, but he's tried that before, and Merlin never goes anywhere, the stubborn bastard.

Arthur counts nearly fifty men on the other side of the river, and he thinks, could this be it? The first man begins to cross the bridge, and Arthur readies himself, when--

The ropes in the middle of the bridge snap, and two men tumble into the river and are swept downstream. The rest of the men are stranded on the other side of the river. There are cries of anger from the other side, but gradually, the men disappear back into the forest.

Arthur stares at the two ends of the bridge hanging pitifully in the water. It doesn't make sense. He _remembers_ thinking about how new the bridge looked--

Don't think about it. Don't think about why. Don't think about anything at all.

He turns around to look at Merlin and the knights. None of them look very surprised. In fact, they look more anxious, like they're waiting to see what he does next. For no reason whatsoever, he looks at Merlin who looks extremely sheepish.

 Very, very slowly, Arthur says, "My, that was… quite lucky how the bridge broke… after we had already crossed it."

"Quite lucky," Leon echoes, and as they begin the long walk home, the atmosphere of the group is almost awkward.

\--

Three days later, Arthur's been rummaging through his closet for ten minutes looking for a specific tunic, (Honestly, Merlin, have you even heard of the word "organization"?) when Gwen and Merlin rush in, talking conspiratorially in hushed tones. They don't notice Arthur, and this whole situation has a secretive vibe that Arthur doesn't like, so he backs away behind the wall, unseen. He can only pick up bits and pieces of their conversation.

"… Does he know about…"

"… could he not? I mean, he _saw_ the…"

"… did he say when…"

"… he said that it was _lucky_ …"

"… well, maybe he does, and he's pretending to…"

"… didn't see his face. Oh, Gwen, I'm sorry, but you're married to a _complete_ …"

"… just in denial. Denial can be a very powerful…"         

Realizing that they're talking about him, Arthur decides to reveal himself. "Why're you talking about me behind my back?" he demands, walking towards them.

Gwen's expression is like that of a deer caught in front of a crossbow, but Merlin just looks tired and resigned.

They look at each other before Gwen replies slowly, "It's not what you think, Arthur. We're just planning a surprise for you."

"Guinevere, do I look like an idiot?"

"Well…" Merlin begins.

Arthur holds a hand to Merlin's face. "Did I ask you?" Arthur continues to stare intensely at Gwen, who's never been able to lie very well.

Gwen turns to Merlin, and they start whispering again.

"… do you want…"

"… everyone else's already figured it…"

"… no point in waiting anymore…"

"… is as ready as he'll ever…"

Arthur feels a hard pit of frustration in his gut. He recognizes the looks on Merlin and Gwen's faces. It's the same look that he's seen on their faces and the knights' faces for a while now. He's ignored the look so far, but it has become clear they all know something he doesn't, and he doesn't like it one bit.

"Enough! Tell me what's going on."

Gwen purses her lips. "Arthur, can you tell me exactly how you escaped from the rogues the other day?"

Confused, Arthur obliges, "Well, we were stuck in the cells… when the ceiling gave way, which catapulted the keys toward me…" When he says it out loud, it sounds even more ridiculous than when he thought about it in his mind.

Gwen raises her eyebrows. "Doesn't that strike you as strange?"

"Um, I mean, yes, but, er, it could also have been--"

"Keep going," Merlin interrupts. "What happened next?" Merlin's face is twisted into some uncomfortable expression that Arthur doesn't like much.

"We escaped into the forest, came across a river and crossed the bridge. When our captors tried to cross the bridge, it snapped."

"Well?" Merlin looks tense, ready to spring.

"Well what?"

"Well, doesn't that seem a little strange?"

"That kind of stuff happens all the time!"

"Yes! It does!"

"That's what I just said." Arthur puts his hands on his hips. " _Mer_ lin, you're not making this very easy for me."

"You're not making this very easy for me either." Merlin turns to Gwen and frowns. "Gwen," he whines, "you've married a complete buffoon."

"Hey!"

Gwen smiles and shrugs at him, then places a warm hand on both men's shoulders. "I think I should go. This is obviously going to take a while, and, also, I think this is something you two should sort out on your own."

Once Gwen departs, the atmosphere of the room changes. Something tells Arthur that once this conversation ends, his life is never going to be the same again.

Both of them sit down, across from each other, and Merlin leans forward.

"Why do you think the bridge broke?" he asks. "Why do you think the ceiling collapsed?"

"I… I… Luck, I suppose."

"That much luck, really?"

"… No."

"So what else could it be?"

It's practically automatic now. Don't think about it. Don't think about what. Don't think about how. And don't, _don't_ , think about who.

Merlin sighs. "I thought it'd be easier if you figured it out yourself. But you don't want to believe it, so your mind has fooled itself into thinking nothing's wrong. And since you don't actually have any proof, you keep on believing something that clearly isn't true. You'll only realize if I do something in front of your eyes that you can't dismiss as luck."

Arthur slaps the table, glares at Merlin. " _Mer_ lin, I'm tired of this… of this _vagueness._ I am the King of Camelot, so you tell me what's going on right now or else--"

He stops when Merlin reaches over and takes his hand. It's odd, but he'll give Merlin the benefit of the doubt. He always gives Merlin the benefit of the doubt.

"I want you to know that I'm sorry I have to put you in this position. But the secret's getting around, and it just won't do for people to think their king's a hypocrite.

"And I want you to know that everything I've ever done, I've done for you, for Camelot."

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur complains, but the thing is, he knows what's coming next, but then again, he doesn't, but he does, and _oh_ , it was so much easier when he didn't. As he stares at Merlin, years and years of tripped bandits and fallen tree branches fall into place.

"I have magic." Merlin's eyes glow a beautiful gold, and Arthur feels a warmth in his hand. Arthur really, really, doesn't want to look down, but he does anyway. As Merlin takes his hand away, a butterfly flits into the air, trailing little gold sparkles behind it.

Merlin looks at him, waiting, and Arthur thinks maybe he should be angry. But how can he be angry at _Merlin_? Merlin, who magicked bandits' swords away right in front of his king's eyes, who defeated a dragon and then told Arthur that he'd done it (because, well, how else could it have happened? He'd barely wounded it before falling unconsious.). Merlin, the man who could have taken Arthur apart with less than one blow all these years, but never, never did.   

Merlin raises his eyebrows, an unspoken "Well?" hanging in the air.  

If there's one thing, Arthur's learned while he's had Merlin as his manservant, it's never let Merlin get the upper hand, else he gets annoyingly smug. Arthur draws himself up to full height, haughty and regal.

"Well, _duh_ , Merlin. It's quite obvious. I've known you had magic for a long time, now."

Merlin shakes his head, and his face breaks into a grin. He grabs an apple from the basket on the table and throws it at Arthur's head.

"You prat! Don't you lie to me!"

Chuckling, Arthur dodges the thrown fruit, pulls the pillow he's been sitting on from out under him, and tosses it.

"I'm not! I'm completely serious."

As Merlin scampers off to the other side of the room in search of more soft items to throw, Arthur ducks behind the table, smiles, and begins to draft the first words of a new royal decree in his mind.

\--

The news spreads in a susurration, accompanied by hushed gasps. King Arthur is repealing the ban on magic, they whisper among themselves. He's appointing a court sorcerer next week.

The druids say the court sorcerer is the greatest sorcerer the world has ever known, one says. They say that as long as he is on Camelot's side, the kingdom will be nigh impossible to defeat.

They say the court sorcerer was his manservant, one says. They say he used magic for years right under Arthur and Uther's noses, without them ever noticing.

I said before that King Arthur might be a genius, one says in amusement. It would seem that I was horribly incorrect. He's an imbecile!

An imbecile with the most powerful sorcerer in the world by his side, one amends.

           


End file.
